


Deep Water

by girlintheglen



Series: Illya's Days of April [4]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Het
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-03-01 04:08:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18792673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlintheglen/pseuds/girlintheglen





	Deep Water

The water was a shade of aqua that reflected in his blue eyes.  Not that he was aware of it, his senses were soaking in the warmth of the sun as he lay atop pristine white sand.  Illya Kuryakin didn’t know how long he had been asleep, but his skin was warm; if he stayed out much longer there would be the risk of a sunburn.

A deep sigh escaped.  It was a sigh of utter satisfaction.  Seldom did he have the opportunity to just relax, without a need to look over his shoulder or anticipate the warble of his communicator.  This place was perfectly isolated from all of that.

 For a split second Illya thought of his partner, wondering what he had found to occupy his time.  The question was quickly replaced by an assumption borne of experience; Napoleon would no doubt have found a woman who was willing to engage in something profoundly intimate.  Their ideas about relaxation were predictably different.

 This beach was very private, Illya hadn’t seen anyone for hours.  He had taken advantage of that, choosing to take the sun sans clothing of any sort; he disliked the look of white buttocks in contrast to tanned skin everywhere else on his body.  Vain? Perhaps, he cared little for what people might think of his actions.

 Alexander Waverly had seen fit to let his agents remain on the tropical island where they had solved an enigma and eliminated yet another THRUSH threat.  This island was now in UNCLE’s domain, the enemy subjugated and removed.  Perhaps, in addition to Survival School’s island home, this one could become a private vacation site for weary agents in need of respite from their duties.  Waverly wouldn’t look too deeply into what would pass for recreation, the island belonged to the Command now, and it would be in reserve for his people.

 Currently, the only people on the island were Solo and Kuryakin, along with some locals who remained in order to continue with businesses and services necessary to the island’s economy.  There were very private beaches, a marina and a small central township for buying necessary food and supplies.   For the UNCLE agents who would visit this place, security was guaranteed with a permanent contingency of security personnel.  They were present, but would not intrude on the activities of those who visited while off duty.

 Considering all of this as he lay in the afternoon sun, Illya was struck once again by the sense of peace and tranquility.  It sounded trite, but in truth he hadn’t been this relaxed for many months.  He turned over and let the sun have his backside for a while as he drifted again into a dream about tranquil water and …

 “Illya… darling, are you awake?”  The voice was familiar, waking the sleeping Russian from his dreams.  He turned over and looked up at a familiar face.

 “April? What… why are you here?”  He hadn’t known she would be here, and was suddenly aware of his nakedness.  She seemed not to have noticed, although he was experiencing something now that she most certainly would be unable to ignore.

 “Ssshhh… darling, just relax.” And with that she untied the pareo that hung loose around her body, letting it drop onto the sand. April kneeled down next to Illya, taking a full inventory of him.  He was tan, his hair bleached a lighter shade of blond, his erection an unsubtle invitation.

 “April, how… ahhh…” He couldn’t speak, she straddled him and sank down onto him so that he was immediately inside her.  She did all of the work, riding him with an ease that made her seem almost ethereal.  But the ache was real, the ecstasy of it causing him to moan, calling out her name amidst Russian exclamations of endearment.

 A crack of thunder broke the mood, causing him to sit bolt upright at the sound of something that rang out like a gunshot.

 He was alone.  The beach was still empty save for himself, and as the rain began to fall, his dream faded away into the shuttered rooms of his mind and emotions.

 Those places where his desire would remain. 

 


End file.
